


Tulip mania

by diner_drama



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, M/M, Raven needs to get a grip, Scrabble, flower shop au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24536686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diner_drama/pseuds/diner_drama
Summary: "They're justfucking tulips, Raven," he hissed. "They are not made of gold, and you arenotspending ten dollars a stem. That isfinal." He hung up, plastered a smile on his face and turned to greet his customer.He stopped short on seeing the magnificent specimen who had walked into his store, casually leaning against the counter as though he wasn't the living embodiment of everything that could possibly be attractive in a man."Trouble with the staff?" said the man, with a sharp and thrilling smile."My sister seems to have sunk into some kind of tulip mania," said Charles, regaining his wits somewhat. "I'm beginning to regret sending her out to the market at all.""I'm sorry, I thought I'd walked into a florist's, not 17th Century Holland."
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Comments: 9
Kudos: 112
Collections: Cherik Week 2020





	Tulip mania

"Raven, Raven, please," begged Charles, pinning his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he frantically tried to finish the bouquet he was working on. "Our budget does not stretch that far. Please, just bid on the flowers we discussed and then come straight back to the shop."

The tinkling sound of the bell over the door alerted him that a customer had walked into his store, so he made his way out from the back room, half-listening to his sister's protestations.

"They're just _fucking tulips_ , Raven," he hissed. "They are not made of gold, and you are _not_ spending ten dollars a stem. That is _final_." He hung up, plastered a smile on his face and turned to greet his customer.

He stopped short on seeing the magnificent specimen who had walked into his store, casually leaning against the counter as though he wasn't the living embodiment of everything that could possibly be attractive in a man.

"Trouble with the staff?" said the man, with a sharp and thrilling smile.

"My sister seems to have sunk into some kind of tulip mania," said Charles, regaining his wits somewhat. "I'm beginning to regret sending her out to the market at all."

"I'm sorry, I thought I'd walked into a florist's, not 17th Century Holland."

Charles buried his head in his hands and started laughing, a little hysterically. "I have been aching to make that joke for the last half hour and haven't had anyone to say it to," he said, sounding muffled. He stood up and scrubbed his hands over his face, shaking himself out of his funk. "Thank you, that's made my day."

"Glad to be of service. I don't suppose I could trouble you for some flowers?"

"Yes, that can be arranged," chuckled Charles. "What can I get you?"

"I'm here to pick up the order for Shaw & Co.," he replied, consulting a crumpled list from his pocket. "A couple of tall arrangements and something with roses," he read.

"Ah, of course. Come with me to the back room and we can take it to the truck together. Where's Azazel today?"

"He broke his leg, the idiot," he replied, following him behind the counter into the little room at the back, which was full of buckets of water and unarranged flowers. "You'll be stuck dealing with me for the next few months, I'm afraid. I'm Erik."

"Pleasure to meet you, Erik," said Charles, pausing to wipe his hand on his apron and stick it out to shake. "What do you do for Mr. Shaw?"

"I'm his accountant, and apparently his backup greenery delivery man."

"It's always good to branch out," said Charles, picking up one side of a crate and motioning for Erik to do the same. "If you'll pardon the pun."

"I will not," laughed Erik, lifting the other side of the crate with, Charles noted with interest, very little effort. The van was double-parked at the front of the shop, and they loaded the crate of flowers into the back. Charles took the opportunity while Erik's back was turned to enjoy the shifting of his muscles beneath his well-tailored shirt.

"If you're on flower duty again next Monday, come around the back way and you can park up next to my van and avoid a ticket," said Charles, clapping Erik on the shoulder and then standing with his hands in his apron pocket, chewing on his red lower lip as his newest customer drove away, waving cheerily over his shoulder.

The next Monday morning, Charles turned up earlier than usual to open up the shop, wearing his least grubby uniform and with his unruly curls painstakingly tamed. He grinned as he heard the sound of a vehicle pulling into the lot, and arranged himself fetchingly against the counter, pretending to reorganise the ribbon cabinet.

His face broke into a grin when Erik strode through the door. "Good morning, my friend," he said warmly, dropping the roll of ribbon that he was fiddling with, which went skidding across the floor to Erik's feet.

"Morning," said Erik lightly, picking up the ribbon and placing it back on the counter, looking around himself as he did so. "You have a lot more tulips than you did last week," he commented with a barely perceptible smirk.

"Don't get me started," said Charles darkly. "Mr. Shaw's table arrangement is half tulips and that's non-negotiable."

"I wouldn't dream of interfering with your artistic vision."

"I think you're giving me too much credit there, but I appreciate it nonetheless," grinned Charles, leaning forwards on his elbows. "How's the accountancy business treating you this week?"

"A bit of a fallow period at this time of the year, but I'm doing incredibly well at _Words With Friends_."

"Ooh, you wouldn't mind adding me, would you? Raven and Hank won't play with me any more, they claim that my smugness is excessive and off-putting."

"Tempting," smirked Erik, nonetheless pulling out his phone to exchange usernames. They started a game right there at the counter and played for a few minutes, trading barbs over Charles' liberal use of words like "za" and "xi", before Erik remembered that he had a job and departed with the flowers.

The next Monday morning started incredibly badly, with every other member of staff off sick, meaning that Charles had to deal with all of the deliveries and setting up the shop single-handedly before 6 AM, leaving him rushing with the arrangements. 8 AM found him kneeling despondently on the floor in the back room, surrounded by sprays of leaves and stray petals.

"Charles?" called Erik from the front of the store.

"I'm in here," said Charles mournfully. "Everything is terrible."

"What happened, _Liebchen_?" said Erik in a soothing voice, taking in Charles' sodden knees, the pollen covering half of his body and his general air of defeat.

"I have eighteen different arrangements to make for eighteen different offices _and_ seven birthday deliveries due to be collected at noon and I've only done half of them and I am the only person working today, and I am _experiencing distress_ ," said Charles intensely, a vein throbbing on one side of his forehead.

"What can I do to help? I don't have a lot of work to do this morning, I can spare a couple of hours."

The look that Charles gave at this point was so pathetically grateful as to defy description. It took just a few short minutes to explain the basics of the arrangements to Erik and to get him working under Charles' supervision on finishing the rest of the vases, sitting cross-legged on a towel on the damp floor.

"You're a surprisingly creative person," commented Charles, looking a lot more cheerful now that the end was in sight.

"You should see what I do with Mr. Shaw's tax returns."

"If you ever need a weekend job, I'd be happy to employ you here, although I should warn you that we have a very strict policy on sexual harassment."

"You do?"

"Yes, it's absolutely mandatory," said Charles, leering unattractively. Erik laughed and punched him in the shoulder.

As a team, they made short work of the remaining arrangements and soon enough the vases and bouquets were all lined up, ready to be collected.

"You may have just saved my life, Erik, thank you," said Charles, breathing a sigh of relief.

"All I ask is that you let me win a game of Scrabble at some point," he replied gallantly, rising to his feet and dusting off his suit.

"That would bring dishonour on both of us. Here," said Charles, picking out a single, pink rose from a bucket near the door. Snipping off the stem, he tucked it into Erik's button hole and pinned it in place. "In lieu of actually paying you."

"Chic," murmured Erik, regarding Charles with an amused smile as he lingered over smoothing down his lapel.

"Listen," began Charles, looking up at Erik through his ridiculous eyelashes, "I don't suppose you'd like to-"

He was cut off when Erik's cell phone began to ring.

"Hold that thought," he said apologetically before answering. "Lehnsherr. Yes, Mr. Shaw. I'll be right there." He sighed heavily after hanging up and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sorry, I have to run. Same time next week?"

"Of course." Charles waved him out the door and set to cleaning up the back room.

After he closed up the shop for the evening, the rest of the day having been largely uneventful, Charles trooped up the stairs to his little apartment clutching a bag of take-out and a family-sized packet of M&Ms, ready to curl up in his favourite arm chair and read some of his secret stash of young adult science fiction novels. Just as he'd set himself up with the takeaway container balanced between his thighs, his chop sticks in one hand, and the book held open with his other hand at a comfortable reading distance, his phone chirruped in his pocket. It took him a few seconds to disentangle himself from this careful set-up without spilling chow mein on his book, but when he saw the notification on his screen he was glad to have made the effort.

**Notification:** Erik has played BOUQUET for 19 points

Charles smiled and checked his tiles. There were some promising options for if he actually wanted to win the game, but in this particular game, he just wanted to flirt.

**Notification:** Charles has played THANKS for 15 points

Erik's next move took just enough time to arrive that Charles was beginning to re-think his strategy.

**Notification:** Erik has played CUTE for 8 points

Charles held his breath as he arranged the tiles for his next word.

**Notification:** Charles has played DATE for 7 points

As he stuffed noodles into his face and waited for Erik to respond, Charles reflected that there wasn't a spare "Y", "E", or "S" on the board to be used. He was just about to kick himself for missing out on a date due to insufficient letters when two notifications arrived in quick succession.

**Notification:** Erik has played BOUQUETS for 60 points

**Notification:** Erik has played YES for 18 points

" _Fucking_ triple word score," said Charles aloud.

**Erik:** to clarify, yes I would like to go on a date with you

**Erik:** also, I think I will be winning this game

**Charles:** I think you might be as well

**Charles:** Dinner tomorrow night? My place?

**Erik:** I'll bring flowers.


End file.
